Long term relationships

By Pat Steele

Long term relationships are a battle. If yours isn’t, you’ve either given up and are hiding in your mental bunker or your relationship is one of those rare oddities (happy all the time) that is such a small percentile that is almost irrelevant.

After 30-plus years of marriage I have hammered out an equal partnership. My wife makes 70 percent of the decisions, well maybe 80 percent but I have a solid 20 percent. How is that equal? There are a lot of things, I just don’t care about: linens, paint color, furniture, wallpaper, glassware, silverware, curtains, etc. I have a few items that are non negotiable.

I refuse to sleep in a feminine bed. Something about waking up in frilly lace makes me feel disjointed. My wife and I both like to travel, but I have a condition, it must have surf. So my wife has not been able to drag me to some places, she would love to visit. I refuse to go to Central Africa, the Mayan Ruins, Alaska and Europe to name a few.

Some years back she approached me about a trip to the Caribbean. Before I could say anything she showed me that there was surf there. She had done her homework. The catch was we would be traveling with four strangers. James, one of her clients who had done exceptionally well on his real estate investments, had won a boat trip to the Virgin Islands and he wanted to take us free of charge. Even though I had reservations, I was in.

James was allowed to charter any boat he wanted, since he was an avid sailor, he picked a streamline sailboat. The rest of the crew were friends of James; a pilot and his girlfriend and James’s best friend from Oregon. At the dock we were all introduced, packed our supplies and headed out. It turns out the only island in the vicinity with potential surf was Tortola and James agreed to sail there. It took two days to get there and by that time I really needed a surf. As we approached the island, Betty and I talked James into letting us cruise close to the coast in the Zodiac, so we could check for possible surf spots. We found a potential break not far from Cane Garden Bay where we would be anchoring. We were probably 20 minutes behind the sailboat. When we pulled up in the Zodiac there was a weird vibe coming from the pilot. Apparently he was upset that the Zodiac wasn’t there for him to go immediately to the island. Betty and I apologized and thought it was over.

We all went into shore for dinner and drinks. With each drink the pilot got more bent out of shape at our being tardy with the Zodiac. His girlfriend tried to placate him, but he was just getting started. Back on the boat Betty and I had a surreal moment as the argument heated up. We were sitting on the deck looking into the galley as the pilot and his girlfriend got into a screaming match over us. We could hear everything, it was like watching a play and we were the main plot. Finally the girlfriend had enough and demanded she be taken to the island so she could stay in a hotel.

We gave her a ride back to the island and she booked a room in the only hotel. We again apologized. She explained that the pilot was married and their long term relationship had come apart, we were just the catalyst to the inevitable. The next morning she took a plane to another island. That afternoon the pilot flew home. The next morning James informed us he and his friend were leaving too. The boat charter company would send a sailor to take us back in a week, since we didn’t know how to sail.

There we were, anchored on a sailboat with enough food and drinks for six, in one of the most beautiful bays in the world. We decided to treat it as the honeymoon we never had. Every morning we would load our boards, pack a lunch and spend the day surfing a fun little left two bays to the south on an isolated beach with white sand out of a postcard. Everything was going smooth until one afternoon when we went to launch the Zodiac. We had been beaching the Zodiac at the far end of the little bay because it was deeper and no waves broke there. Just as we were pushing the Zodiac into the water a freak wave appeared. I was pushing from the back and Betty was on the side. I tried to push the Zodiac over the cresting shore break instead the whole Zodiac went over me. When I surfaced I saw that Betty had held on to the side and was dragged up the beach, hitting her ankle on a rock. Betty’s tough but this shook her up. She refused to get near the Zodiac. She swam out and waited for me to launch it myself. On the way back to the boat, she started crying, which always scares the hell out of me. I promised her we would throw an anchor outside the surf spot from now on.

The next day when we had finished our surf, I tried to pull up the anchor but it was stuck on some stag horn coral. I dove down about 15 feet to detach it. The anchor was heavier than I thought and I had a difficult time getting it free of the coral. Just as I was out of air it came free and I threw it to the side. As I was swimming to the surface I watched the current drag it into another coral head. Now I was pissed. Why couldn’t we just beach the damn thing like we had been doing?

After I got my breath, I made Betty get out of the Zodiac so there was less tension on the rope. Did I mention that I yelled it at her? I finally freed the anchor. We sulked on the ride back to the boat; I guess the honeymoon was over. When we pulled up to the sailboat, a festering issue came up. James had showed me the knot to use to secure the Zodiac. For some reason every time I tied up the Zodiac Betty questioned my ability on knot tying. After the anchor incident, I told her to tie the Zodiac up herself (Miss Know It All).

I was deep in my afternoon siesta when Betty woke me with, “The Zodiac’s gone!!” Sure enough the Zodiac had come loose and drifted out of sight. “Why did you let me tie it up??!!” Hmm that’s a good point. “I didn’t want to hear your criticism.” I responded.

“I criticize you all the time, you know that!”

Damn, I have to admit she had some good logic going there. Why did I let her tie it up? No wonder she criticizes me all the time, I’m an idiot!

We hired a speed boat at a hundred dollars an hour to see if we could find the Zodiac, but it had disappeared. When we called the charter company they informed us, no, it wasn’t covered by insurance and, yes, they would take a credit card to the tune of $2,700. We went into a funk for 24 hours. The next day we decided to try scuba diving since we couldn’t surf.

Tortola is part of the British Virgin Islands. Since neither of us had ever dove with tanks, we needed to take lessons. Our instructor, a British guy in Speedos, took us in his boat to a little bay. After about 30 seconds of instructions, he told us to swim around in shallow water and get used to the diving gear. We swam around while he read a book. He then asked us if we felt comfortable with the tanks, which we did. He then took us on our first dive which was 45 feet down and included a cave dive.

The next day he took us out to the Wreck of the Rhone. This wreck is a massive steam ship that got caught in a hurricane. There was also an experienced Australian diver with us. The wreck is 100 feet down. The procedure is to follow a weighted rope to the bottom. We were 15 feet down when the Australian had a malfunction with his gear. Our instructor signaled for us to descend while they went back to fix his gear. Betty and I descended to the bottom. The wreck was huge! The ship had broken in two and each side was 200 feet long. The massive wreck was downright spooky.

Betty and I looked at the wreck and then at each other, we could see all the way up to the bottom of the boat and there was no sign of the other divers. The visibility was unlimited. A big cloud blocked out the sun for a few minutes and the wreck took on an ominous look, sort of like a haunted house. We were two inexperienced divers on their second dive, alone 100 feet down. I was glad to see the sun come back out and the other divers descending.

We swam over the wreck. What an awesome sight. The instructor stopped us and pointed above us, he motioned with his hand in a biting fashion. A large barracuda was parked about 30 feet above us. I looked at those large teeth and was glad I wasn’t alone.

When I turned to look at the others, they weren’t there. I could see the last of their fins disappearing into a hole in the wreck. I quickly looked back at the barracuda; it rotated like a helicopter and dove straight for me. I sprinted for the opening in the wreck.

Unfortunately, I didn’t know that they had all stopped right inside the opening to let their eyes adjust. In full escape mode I slammed into them, bubbles were flying everywhere. The instructor wasn’t too happy with me, since I almost knocked his face mask clean off his head. After everything settled down, he made a gesture like “WHAT?!!” or “YOU IDIOT!!” I shrugged my shoulders and raised my eyebrows. How do you say “whoops” underwater?

The wreck was incredible; it was filled with fish of all sizes. There were giant crabs everywhere. That afternoon we dove on the other half of the wreck. It was truly a remarkable experience.

On our final day the charter company dropped off a sailor to sail us back. Betty and I were feeling depressed about the missing Zodiac. Ironically someone had found it drifting out at sea 20 miles from where we had lost it. They recognized the charter logo painted on the side and being Good Samaritans they had returned it. What a weird trip, the bad things turned out to be good things. The big fight that caused everyone to leave, left Betty and I alone for a great vacation. Losing the Zodiac caused Betty and I to scuba dive for the first time which was the highlight of the trip.

There could only be one ending to this story:

They lived happily ever after.

They lived happily ever after most of the time.

They lived happily ever after some of the time.

That’s it.